In the office, she wrote everything on yellow paper: legals pads, while-you-were-outs, carbon copies, and sticky notes. Her eyes, so accustomed to the faded yellow of her workdays, had difficulty ... [+]
I have come to the creek
to lay down my grief
beside the trees whose roots
creep into the stone-laden water.
I can not sink my grief,
I tried for years
to climb into the ferocious sea
and drown my pain.
but the sea doesn't pick and choose,
I nearly drowned too.
So I take my mourning,
lay it beside me on the dirt
hoping it will sow something.
I can't lay all of it,
no,
I'll carry it until I see you again.
to lay down my grief
beside the trees whose roots
creep into the stone-laden water.
I can not sink my grief,
I tried for years
to climb into the ferocious sea
and drown my pain.
but the sea doesn't pick and choose,
I nearly drowned too.
So I take my mourning,
lay it beside me on the dirt
hoping it will sow something.
I can't lay all of it,
no,
I'll carry it until I see you again.
